I’ve seen the fall of Acre, I’ve seen many brave man die, at the slaughter at the Horns of Hattin, for days you could see the vultures fly.
I’ve crossed many lands, I’ve engaged in many wars, for this symbol on my chest, I’ve slaughtered many hordes.
In countless battles I’ve took part, I’ve stood beside the lionheart. Past every grain of sand I’ve trod, in this land there is no god.
My chain mail is heavy on me, this is not a war of chivalry. The only thing sacred lies in my hand, my sword will reap this land.
I am infidel, my blade is sharp and clean, I am infidel, I am war machine.
Moving out across the cell, nothing brewed, every day swells. So many days I’ve lost scout, a route to the day were we are out.
I trudge in these sands, I’ve been blown apart, I’ve followed the footsteps of the lionheart. IEDs and insurgent attacks, fatalities rise, armor burnt black.
Called me up, they know my creed, I am the first to fight, the first to bleed. I’m not here for god or gold, only to kill and reap souls.
I am infidel, locked and loaded my bore is clean, I am infidel, I am war machine.